Mergers and Martyrs
by LoPar
Summary: Santana just wants to live out her early twenties like the fabulous socialite that she thinks she is.Her father has other plans for her.So when Santana's dad arranges a marriage for her to a country boy for business purposes, she questions her life,and how far she's willing to go to make her dad happy.Martyrdom is alive and well in L.A. Boy!Britt
1. Chapter 1

**So this is my second story and this fic idea was given to me by Vsaint. I had fun writing this chapter, so I hope you enjoy reading it! **

**I don't own Glee.**

Santana rolled her eyes as she passed by the way to chipper receptionist at her father Beverly Hills talent agency. Rebecca , or Reese or whatever the hell her name is was just to damn cheery for Santana's taste. I mean the women's voice was higher than her friend Kurt's when he wore those awful 'Hugh Jackman gold lady pants'.

It also didn't help that Santana had one of the worst hangovers of all time. Ciroc didn't taste good going down, and it definitely didn't taste good coming back up. Not to mention she could actually hear the blood coursing through her own head. Never again, Santana had told herself. She told herself this every Friday afternoon.

So the fact that her father had demanded her in his office at nine am on a Friday morning was only adding fuel to the fire that was an annoyed Santana Lopez. And everyone in Hollywood knew that an annoyed Santana Lopez was not to be trifled with.

Obviously everyone except that bitch behind the desk with the obnoxiously painful voice asking her if she would like anything.

Santana plopped down on one of the couches in the reception area and tried with all her might to block out the retched noises. She closed her eyes, that were hidden under big dark sunglasses, but that only made her more nauseous. Finally Santana decided she needed to deal with it.

She sat up straight on the couch and eyed the woman that was now standing directly in front of her.

"What's your name?" Santana asked shamelessly. She was positive she had meet the brunette before, but she couldn't remember her name, and didn't even try to be polite about it.

"Rachel. Rachel Berry. I've worked here for a year now." Rachel said with a smile plastered on her face. Santana didn't even notice as she was now enthralled with staring at Rachel's huge nose.

"Ugh, right Rachel. What do you want?" Santana asked, hoping Rachel would play into what she wanted her to.

"I just wanted to know if you needed anything, Miss Lopez?"

_Sucker._ Santana thought as she took a deep breath and unleashed a vicious rant upon the unsuspecting receptionist.

"Right. You know what I need?" Rachel leaned in a little closer as if not wanting to miss any bit of the request from her bosses daughter.

"Well, I need you to shut your annoying pie hole." Rachel looked extremely taken aback and it only encouraged Santana further.

"Imma need you to get back behind your little desk over there, be completely silent and let me agonize over this hangover in peace. Got it, Fanny Brice?" Santana said pointedly.

"Oh! Oh! Funny Girl is my favorite movie of all ti-" She was cut off as Santana's fingers shot up to hold the smaller girls lips closed.

Rachel's eyes went crossed as she looked at Santana's fingers on her. She was pretty confident she could sue the Lopez Agency for a hostile work environment, but she really needed this job in order. She had finally gotten her foot in the door, and she wouldn't let some entitled brat push her out, like literally physically push her out when it came to Santana's case.

When Rachel looked back up to Santana's face she could see herself in the reflection on Santana's glasses.

Santana removed her hand from the Jewish girls face and sat back down on the couch.

Rachel was still trying to recover from the shock when she cleared her throat a bit.

Santana saw this opportunity, and decided she just could not pass it up.

"You sound a little thirsty, Mrs. Focker. Why don't you go get yourself a nice tall glass of 'shut the fuck up'." Santana cocked her head to the side as if challenging Rachel to say something back.

Rachel wanted to say something so badly to the Latina, but she felt she needed to be the bigger woman in this situation. So smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles on her pencil skirt she huffed and walked back over to her desk.

Santana couldn't help the satisfied smirk that popped up on her face, not that she would ever try to fight it. She had a reputation to uphold anyways.

The smirk was short lived.

"Santana, mija, nice of you to show." Antonio Lopez said as he walked into the reception area looking as handsome as ever with his slicked back salt& pepper hair and his tailored grey suit.

Santana frowned and looked down at her Cartier watch.

"What?! It's only 9:15!" Santana tried to defend.

"Fifteen minutes later than what was asked… Wait, why are you wearing sunglasses inside?..." Antonio shook his head as realization hit him. "…I suppose I should be happy you even managed to roll out of bed this morning, huh?"

Santana flashed him a guilty smile before getting up to hug her father. He really did give the best hugs.

"We have guests.. at least you don't smell.." Santana hit her father playfully on the arm as he lead her back to one of the conference rooms. Santana didn't resist the urge to flip Rachel off when the tiny brunette through a scowl in her direction.

As the Lopez's rounded the corner towards the conference room Santana pulled her sunglasses off her face and pulled out her iPhone to giver her face a once over in the mirror like screen protector. When she was satisfied with her appearance she through on her most charming smile, or at least as charming as she could muster with the amount of alcohol that was probably still running through her system.

Her father stopped just short of the door and turned to his only child.

"Now, these are two very important people. So keep an open mind."

_The hell does that mean? _She thought as she watched her father turn back around and open the door to the large room for her.

There were only two people in the room. Both were men and were seated until they noticed her enter the room.

_Huh, gentlemen. Must not be from L.A._ Santana thought as a silver haired man in a dark suit approached her. He looked to be around her father's age and was fairly tall. She immediately noticed his eyes. They were a unique shade of blue. For his intimidating stature, his face seemed kind. She hadn't even talked to the man yet, but she could tell she would like him…Unless he had an annoying voice. Santana couldn't stand an annoying voice.

When the man outstretched his hand Santana took it and smiled at him while her father introduced him.

"Santana, this is James Pierce. He owns Pierce Publishing. We were just discussing the details of a business deal." Santana had heard of Pierce Publishing. In fact most of her favorite authors were published through the kind faced mans company.

"Well , it's a pleasure to meet you. You're company has really put out great works!" Santana's charms was just overflowing at this time.

The man blushed a little before letting go of Santana's hand and saying, "Oh, you're to kind. And please, call me Jim."

Santana didn't even notice the second man was standing near her until she heard Antonio pat the man on the back. Santana turned to look at her father and the stranger and was met with the most brilliant eyes she had ever seen.

She had thought Jim's eyes were unique, but obviously not. This man's eyes were close to the same shade, but seemed brighter and more full of life. She was broken out of her staring contest when her father spoke up again.

"Santana, this is Jim's son. Brett Pierce…." The man, who looked to be in his early to mid twenties was a little taller than his father and his hair was blonde and a little un kept, but not in a gross way, more like a surfer way. Santana noted that he wasn't too bulky, but he definitely worked out.

_I wouldn't mind him working me out. _Santana thought as she shook the gorgeous man's hand.

Antonio shot a glance at Jim, it went unnoticed by Santana who was busy eye-fucking the younger Pierce, and then cleared his throat.

"Santana, this is Brett Pierce…Your fiancé."

**So, whatcha think? Review and let me know if ya want more!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for everyone who favorited, followed and reviewed y'all are the tits! Enjoy!**

**I don't own glee. **

"Santana, this is Brett Pierce…Your fiancé."

Santana was almost to busy visually violating her new blonde acquaintance to hear the last part of her father's introduction. Almost.

Taking her hand back she looked between her father and Brett with a small awkward smile on her face.

"Uh, no he's not." Santana said jokingly.

_Leave it to Papi to make a horrible joke. Is this supposed to be a fucking icebreaker or something? 'Cause I was doing fine on my own. _

"Yes he is, mija." Antonio said without a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Santana's fake smile dropped right off her face and turned into a frown as she eyed her father, concerned for his health at this point.

"Papi, are you feeling alright?" Santana asked.

Antonio just held her gaze with a blank expression on his face. Jim had suddenly found something outside the high-rise windows to be interesting while his son looked at him with what Santana could only imagine was the same look she held on her face.

"Seriously, Papi. I literally JUST met this man. I think I would know if he was my fiancé or not…" Santana said, feeling super uncomfortable now.

_What the actual fuck? He's got to be joking. Damn, his poker face is getting better._

Santana immediately perked up and poked her father in the chest.

"Oh I get it! Did Mami put you up to this? Is this some sort of payback for when I stumbled into her 'old rich hot-flash stricken bitches' brunch last Sunday? Well played Papi, well played. Good joke!"

"Santana this is not a joke."

"Okay, Papi, tell me then, how can this NOT be a joke? Because this whole thing is just reinforcing my belief that you've finally fallen off the 'normal people left in LA' wagon!" Santana asked condescendingly to her father, having for the most part forgotten the other two men in the room.

"Santana, you WILL watch your tone with me. And I would love to tell you how this is not a joke. Jim and I here have arranged your marriage, ergo this strapping young lad.." He motioned to Brett, who looked just about as shocked as Santana felt. "..Is indeed you fiancé."

Santana just stood there staring at her father. She firmly believed that he had actually lost his mind.

When she looked at the older Pierce she was greeted with a shy hopeful smile. She lost it.

"YOU'RE ACTUALLY SERIOUS! Excuse me, but last I checked it wasn't medieval times, or India! I am a grown woman for Christ sa-" Santana was cut off from her rant by her father placing is hand in front of her face.

"Let me just stop you there; last time I checked, a person is not 'grown' until they support themselves. You may be twenty-two, but you have never supported yourself in your entire life. You are dependent on your mother and I. So you're whole 'I'm grown' argument is illogical…now carry on." Antonia said as he removed his hand.

"My argument is 'illogical'? PAPI! How is any of this LOGICAL! I don't even know him!" Santana said pointing her finger at Brett. "For all we know he could be a crazy crack head, or murderer! For god's sake, he's wearing a flannel shirt! A flannel shirt in LA! The only flannel shirt wearing people you can trust in LA are the lesbians!" Santana through an apologetic look at Brett before lowering her voice and saying "No offense."

Brett perked up a little when Santana directly addressed him. His father had shown him pictures of her, but they didn't do her justice. Even while throwing a temper tantrum, rightfully so Brett thought, and with blood shot eyes she still had to be one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.

"Uh, none taken.." Brett said with a small smile.

Jim noticed this and elbowed his son and wiggled his eyebrows when he had gotten Brett's attention. Brett returned his dads devilish grin before quickly replacing it with his best 'I'm mad at you' look. He was supposed to be mad at his dad for lying. Just when he was about to scold his father, Santana started up again.

"Seriously, this isn't funny or romantic or whatever you want it to be Papi.." She shot a scathing glare at Jim. "..and Jim! I have a life here! I just graduated college! Not to mention I have a BOYFRIEND!"

"Oh please Santana, you might as well call that boy your girlfriend! I may not be up on all you kids' lingo, but that conniving weasel is a douche bag! You're much better off with Brett here!" Antonio said as he moved and grabbed Brett by the back of the neck in what Santana guessed was some type of manly approval.

"Brett's a good man. He can take care of you." Brett looked up shyly at Santana, which only pissed her off even more.

_Is this foreal right now? How can he be going along with these two lunatics!_

"I can take care of myself Papi!" Santana yelled at her father.

"The thing is, Santana, that no you cannot take care of yourself. So either you let Brett take care of you, or your mother or I stop taking care of you!" Antonio said firmly.

It all clicked in Santana's mind.

"Wait. So you're saying that If I don't marry him, you'll cut me off?! You can't do that!" Santana all but screeched.

Santana had never seen a more serious look on Antonio's face. "Watch me." He said.

You could literally hear the air leaving Santana's lungs. She couldn't believe this was happening. I mean this shit was crazy, this didn't happen in real life! She hoped that she was still in an alcohol-induced dream, cause right now she felt like she was actually stuck in a nightmare.

_He wouldn't actually cut me off would he? No. I'm his only child. They like need me to carry on a legacy or some shit! He's bluffing. Obviously this is some type of trick or something, 'cause no way in hell am I marrying a damn hick!_

"Oh yeah! Well Fuck this! We'll see what Mami has to say about this…this bullshit!" Santana yelled as she grabbed her purse and violently flung open the door to the conference room and storming out towards the reception area.

Antonio let out a sigh before turning to his two guest.

"Well gentleman, why don't we retreat to my office for a nice scotch?" Antonio asked as if nothing had happened.

"Uh, Antonio, shouldn't you go after Santana? I mean we have no merger if there is no marriage." Jim said sounding a little concerned.

Antonio chuckled. "Oh don't worry one bit Jim. No need for me to go after her. She's heading into the lion's den." Jim and Brett both looked confused.

"You remember my wife, right?" Jim and Brett both nodded. "Well my wife and mother are picking place settings for the Lopez-Pierce wedding as we speak…" Antonio let out an obnoxious snort "…She would have been better off here! Now, how about that scotch."

The Pierce men seemed satisfied with the answer and followed the Latino out into the hallway when they heard the brunette receptionist ask Santana if everything was okay.

"FUCK OFF BERRY! FUCK RIGHT OFF!"

Brett gulped, suddenly he wasn't so sure about this whole 'business agreement' anymore.

**So, let me know what you think! Next up we have the Lopez ladies and back-story on our boy Brett. **


	3. Chapter 3

**I've gotten really positive feedback so far, so here is Chapter #3! Enjoy!**

**I don't own glee.**

"MAAAMMMMMIIIIIIIIII!" being screamed from the entryway was accompanied by the slamming of the large, and heavy, oak front door.

Maribel looked up from the magazine she was reading and locked eyes with her mother-in-law who was sitting at the opposite end of the couch.

"Alright, show time Alma." The older women nodded before quickly shoving the magazine she was reading behind the couch cushion.

"In the family room!" Maribel shouted towards the doorway.

She could hear Santana's heels practically stomping on the polished marble floor, she could already imagine the look her only child had on her face right now.

As the foot steps got louder Alma let out an amused noise, causing Maribel to shoot her a stern look.

"Alma, we are supposed to act surprised. Play the part, and remember, 'good cop, bad cop'." Maribel whisper yelled at the older women.

She was having a hard time holding in her own amusement. When her husband had called to warn her that their daughter was headed her way she rolled her eyes. Of course her daughter wouldn't agree to the arrangement. Maribel, and Alma as well, hadn't expected anything less. The Lopez's had tried to raise Santana to be independent, but instead of independent she had turned out just plain stubborn, not to mention entitled, bratty and sometimes straight up bitchy. She didn't blame Santana for being pissed off, but Maribel truly believed this was the best thing for her daughter.

Maribel was brought out of her thoughts by an extremely loud huff from the doorway. Turning around on the couch Maribel summonsed up all the knowledge from the acting classes that the agency had put on throughout the years.

"Hola, Mija. What are you doing here?" Maribel asked with a sickeningly sweet smile plastered on her face.

Santana threw her hands in the air dramatically as she made her way to stand in front of her mother.

"Mami, your husband has lost his mind?! He has it in his thick head that I'm supposed to marry one of his golf buddies kids! Me! Me married to some rando! He could be some crazy man that beats women!-"

"Brett wouldn't hurt a fly." Maribel said with a straight face.

"- You should have seen what he was wear-" Santana stopped her pacing and turned to face her mother.

"What did you say?" Santana eyed her mother suspiciously.

Maribel sat a little straighter before saying, "I said, Brett wouldn't hurt a fly. He is probably the nicest young man I have ever meet. Much better than the boys you hang around with." Maribel said with her eyebrow raised in a challenging manner, hoping Santana would in fact challenge her.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS! Papi said you were part of this, but I really chalked it up to him being senile. Mami! Seriously, I am my own woman! I am independent! I don't need my parents playing matchmaker, and don't even let me start on the fact that it's a business deal. I feel so used." Santana's face scrunched up in disgusted as she crossed her arms across her chest.

"Yes 'Seriously' Santana." Maribel said sternly, not finding her daughter's attitude amusing anymore. Not at all.

"You say you are independent. You say you are your own women. Well you're wrong, Santana Lopez. You act like a little girl, not a women. You are a spoiled little girl. When I was your age I was helping our father build our company. I had a degree, a legitimate degree. I cleaned and cooked. I was a woman. What do you do Santana? You do nothing. You barely passed you classes and spent more time at the clubs than the library. You majored in Fashion Merchandising! I could understand that if you had a job that deals with that, but YOU. DON'T. EVEN. HAVE. JOB! You don't clean, you hire people to do that. You don't cook, I don't think you even know how to use a stove. Your only ambition in life is to spend money. Your father and I's money, mind you. You can't call yourself independent if you can't support yourself Santana. And don't get me started on the people you call your 'friends'." Maribel finished with a huff.

"Is this what this is about? I am perfectly capable of getting a job!" Santana defended.

"Club promoting doesn't cover health insurance Santana." Maribel said back.

Santana sighed dejectedly before trying to take another course of action with her mother.

Santana dropped to her knees in front of her mother. Pout firmly in place Santana grabbed her mothers hands that rested in her lap.

"Mami, I know I'm not the best daughter.." Santana sniffed for effect. "..but I promise I will cut back on spending and start looking for a real job…." Throw in some puppy dog eyes. "…you would marry your only daughter off to some lumberjack wannabe?" Santana asked, more as a rhetorical question. Maribel obviously did not.

"Yes." Maribel said with a curt nod of her head.

_I need to switch it up. Hmm, what to do? Think fast, Santana… Tantrum. Perfect. She'll get so sick of me whining she'll give in. Works every time._ Santana thought as she stood up.

"FINE! Kick me out, disinherit me! I don't care!" Santana screamed.

"Fine, I will." Maribel responded immediately.

Obviously, Santana's plan wasn't working. "UGH! Mami this is complete BULLS-"

"Santana, nieta, don't talk to your mother in that tone. No matter how mad she is making you. Comprende?" Alma said, finally speaking.

Santana let out a dejected sigh. "Si, Abuela."

"Good. Now come have a seat next to your Abuela." Alma said patting the cushion next to her.

Santana reluctantly sat down in between her mother and grandmother.

"Santana, I know you think this is crazy, but I want you to be open minded. Can you do that for me?" Alma asked gently.

"Yeah." Santana said unenthusiastically earning her a poke from her mother. Taking the hint Santana turned to her grandmother, "Yes. I can be open minded, Abuela."

"Good. Now, this is actually a wonderful thing. I know you feel used, but your father has wanted to merge with the Pierces for a long time. This has to be done to solidify the merger. It would make your father so happy, and I know how you want to make him proud…" Santana huffed at the statement. It was getting really hard to stay open minded. "..I know you want to make him proud, you just haven't seized the opportunity to make him proud yet. You have been given so much Santana, but you haven't showed your appreciation." Alma could sense the defensiveness that was nearly spewing out of her granddaughter. "..And that's not necessarily your fault.."

_Dios Mio, I am lying out of my ass right now. _

"But just think, this is your chance. And lets just make it clear; you don't have to stay married to Brett. It is not ideal to get divorced, and the church looks down on it, but no one is going to force you to stay in a marriage that you don't want. You can get one of those…those.. what you call it? A pre..pre-"

"Prenup, Abuela?" Santana supplied.

"Ah, Si! A Prenup!... And you want to be independent, si?" Santana nodded. "Well, if you are married you could be independent. No one to answer to, you would have your own money. You could do what you want. You could do your thing; your husband could do his. Its perfecto!" Alma clapped enthusiastically.

"Well, that does sound nice…" Santana said seriously pondering the benefits of this little arrangement. Not having to deal with her parents would be awesome.

Alma took this moment of silence to lean back and throw a conspiratorial wink at her daughter-in-law. This would be easier than she thought.

"..actually really nice… but wait, I don't even know this Brett guy!"

"Not a problem. You can get to know him!" Alma was a little to excited about how easily her granddaughter was playing into her plan.

"I'll give you a brief rundown, well obviously he is gorgeous.." Maribel said.

"I second that!" Alma butted in.

Maribel and Santana both had disgusted looks on their faces at Alma's words. Santana firmly believe that her grandmother was asexual. Apparently not.

"Right, anyways, he is twenty-five, graduated from Vanderbilt where he was on a wrestling scholarship, not that he needed it, the Pierces have enough money to practically buy Vanderbilt. He still lives in Nashville, which explains the attire, and is working as a sports trainer. He is the sweetest most polite man I have ever meet. Annnd he is more than willing to move out to L.A. so YOU, my dear, don't have to move to Tennessee." Maribel finished with a pleased smirk on her face.

"Wait, that's all you're going tell me!" Santana said. She had liked what she had heard so far, but her mother was really going to leave her hanging like that? Bitch.

"Si, mija, that is all I am going to tell you. You can find out more tonight."

Santana shrugged as if willing her mother to explain further.

"When the Pierces come here for dinner. There will be plenty of time for you to get to know Brett, after all they are staying here for a while."

Santana's day had progressively gotten worse, and now she was being forced to break bread with her so called 'fiancé'.

_No me gusta. _

**Sort of a filler chapter for y'all. Next chapter will be more fun, with Brett and Santana actually interacting. **


	4. Chapter 4

**So a couple of hours ago I got an email notification saying I had a new story follower. Guys, I am so so sorry for taking so long on this. When I saw that email I felt so guilty! I was like "Lo, you owe it to the readers to get over your writers block and get on with the story!" I totally know how it feels to anxiously await an update from a story you fav/follow. I'm an ass! You guys are the reason I write these stories to begin with. So I sat my ass down and started writing. It was forced at first, but then I totally got back in the flow and ended up writing an extra 3,000 words. Anyways, hope this **_**kinda? **_**makes up for the long wait. **

**I don't own glee. **

Santana sat in front of her bathroom mirror deciding on how she should do her makeup. She didn't even know why she was thinking so hard about it. It was just dinner, at her house.

_Maybe I should just wear no makeup and sweatpants, then maybe he won't want to marry my lazy ass. _

_..._

_Ugh, that won't work. I'd look smoking hot in a garbage bag._

Thirty minutes later Santana was in her closet looking herself over in her full-length mirror. She looked good. She had decided, or more so her vanity had decided, on a semi-form fitting short long sleeve black dress. It was casual but sexy. It was innocent enough to not make her father cringe, but hot enough to catch a man.

_Is that what you're doing know? Trying to 'catch a man'? What is wrong with you?! This is insane! You're Santana Fucking Lopez no one tells you wh-_

"Santana, get down here! Our guests just pulled up to the gate!" Her mother's voice boomed out from the intercom in her room.

She quickly slipped her black heels on ran to the intercom. "Coming Mami!"

Santana had to shake her head at herself for her actions. _Sure no one tells you what to do…._

"Shut up." She said aloud to herself has she made her way down the grand staircase.

"Santana, mija, best behavior tonight." Antonio said to his daughter when she reached his side by the front door.

"Yeah, act your age!" Maribel said and smirked when she received a glare in return.

"You know Mami, I thought you were supposed to be on my side…" Santana mumbled with an annoyed look on her face.

Just then there was a knock on the door. While Antonio went to open the door Maribel elbowed her daughter in the side, "Be nice, and smile." Maribel said through her own 'to big to be natural' smile plastered on her face.

"Jim, Brett! Welcome! Come in, come in!" Santana heard her father voice boom from the entryway. That was the two Lopez women's cue.

The women's heels clicked against the polished marble floor as they made their way over to greet their guests.

Both Pierce men were wearing khakis with button down shirts. Santana immediately noticed how Brett's baby blue shirt made his eyes standout even more then they had earlier in the day during their brief, and extremely uncomfortable introduction. She also noticed the beautiful bouquet of assorted flowers he was holding.

As Jim was greeting Maribel, Brett and Santana made eye contact. Santana wanted to badly to just run to the nearest psychiatrist and have her parents committed, but she had trouble thinking when she was looking into such gorgeous eyes.

They were both to caught up in each other to notice the older people in the room had gone quiet and were watching them with curious eyes.

Brett was the first one to break the silence between the two.

He cleared his throat before saying, "Hi."

Santana felt bashful all of the sudden.

_Ah, what the hell! _Her conscious screamed in her head. Prompting her into action. Her parents wanted her to place nice, so she'd play nice.

"Hello…" Santana said before taking a step closer to the blonde man. "Are those for me?" Santana asked with what she hoped was a sexy little smile. Oh, she's play nice alright.

"No." Brett said without missing a beat.

Santana's face immediately fell.

_Brick._ Santana thought as she watched Brett turn towards her mother.

"These are for the hostess." Brett said with a charming smile on his face. "Thank you for inviting us to your home. It really is lovely."

Maribel swooned. Santana scoffed.

"Well thank you so much Brett. That is very kind of you!" Maribel said as she took the bouquet from Brett, but not before he reached in and grabbed the most unique flower Santana had ever seen.

"This is for you." He said with the same charming smile on his face, but with a quieter tone, he handed Santana a red and white rose. It was Santana's turn to swoon.

"T-Thanks." Santana stuttered, causing Maribel to cover her giggles up with a very unrealistic cough.

"Are you alright Mrs. Lopez?" Brett asked taking his eyes of Santana to look at Maribel with a concerned look.

"Huh? Oh, yes, I'm fine dear! Perfectly fine! Wonderful actually! Now, if you'll excuse me I'm going to put these lovely flowers in a vase." Maribel said throwing a wink her daughters way as she turned to walk towards the kitchen. Santana just rolled her eyes.

"Well, what do you say we head out to the deck? The food should be done shortly." Antonio said with a clap of his hands. As he patted Jim on the back as he lead him through the house.

Santana and Brett trailed behind, both looking everywhere but each other. Usually Santana loved to make awkward moments for those around her, something about seeing people uncomfortable was extremely satisfying, but when it came to her being on the receiving end of the awkwardness, she hated it.

Santana looked down at the rose in her hand and found an out. "Uh, Papi?" Santana said getting the attention of her father in front of her.

"Yes, mija?" Antonio asked without even turning around.

"I'm gonna go put the flower in some water…"

"Okay, but don't dillydally." Antonio said throwing a warning glance over his shoulder.

_Damn, he knows me too well!_ Santana thought. "Yeah, sure… Uh, excuse me." She said as she turned to her left and nearly collided with Brett's solid chest.

"Yeah, sorry. My bad." Brett said.

Just when Santana thought it couldn't get anymore awkward, the 'Awkward shuffle' happened. You know where one person moves one way to get out of someone else's way, but said person ends up going the same way, effectively blocking the passing person further. Yeah. Awkward.

"Sorry." Brett mumbled as he finally got out of Santana's way.

Santana just ducked her head down as she moved past him and towards the stairs to her bedroom.

Once in her room, she found haphazardly threw the rose onto her desk before sitting down on her bed with a huff.

_Get your shit together, Lopez. You are a grown ass woman. Stop stuttering. Santana Lopez doesn't stutter. She makes bitches stutter!_

With a deep breathe in and an obnoxious exhale Santana pushed herself up and off her bed and started back downstairs, but not before stopping to do a once over in a hallway mirror.

As she stepped of the last stair of the back of the houses stairwell she heard whispered voices coming from the kitchen. She was planning on ignoring it and just heading outside, but curiosity always seemed to get the best of Santana Lopez.

She took her Louboutin's off and silently walked to the kitchen entryway, peeking her head around the corner.

She was extremely confused by what she saw.

There was her Abuela, standing by the kitchen island with her back turned towards Santana, and standing in front of her pulling something out of his pocket.

_ .Hell._

"Abuela, I brought you something. I remember you telling me about it the last time we saw each other." Brett whispered.

"_Last time we saw each other" What the hell is this? How many times have they meet for Christs sake?_

Brett pulled a small silver case out of his pocket and handed it to her Abuela. She couldn't see what it was, but judging by Abuela's reaction it was something awesome.

The elder Lopez threw her arms around the mans midsection and hugged him tightly, earning her a smile and an equally tight embrace back.

"Oh, dear boy you are a saint!" Abuela laughed as she let the boy go and patted his cheeks.

"My son and daughter-in-law won't let me have them anymore, say it's bad for me. You know what I say? I say, let me live!" Abuela said.

"Amen to that Abuela!" Brett said as he stuck out his fist.

Abuela tapped her fist against his.

_My grandmother did not just 'pound it'. What is this life anymore?_

"You'll have one with me later?" Abuela asked.

Brett's nose scrunched up a little bit in what Santana could only imagine was of disgust. Santana thought it was adorable.

_Stop it._

"No, not me. I'm not a big fan of them myself. I always end up inhaling the smoke…" Brett said apologetically.

"More for me than!" Abuela said cheerfully.

Just then the oven timer started going off, frightening Santana. She let out a little squeak before quickly straightening up and putting her heels back on.

Both of the people in the kitchen heard her and were wearing matching guilty expressions when Santana walked in rather loudly, trying to seem as if she had not just been eavesdropping.

They bought it.

"Uh, Santana, the food is done. Help Brett carry out the dishes?" Her grandmother asked sweetly, to sweetly if you asked Santana.

As she made her way over to grab the salad she eyed up her grandmother and Brett who both seemed to find the enchiladas very interesting all of the sudden.

_Freaks. _Santana thought as she made her way to the outside dining area.

Dinner was delicious as always. Abuela always made the best dishes. It was a prefect excuse for Santana not to converse with the people at the table with her. She felt like the entire table was against her, praying that any moment Ashton Kutcher would pop out and announce that she had been Punk'd.

No such luck.

The conversation flowed easy between all the older people at the table. They talked about recent business ventures and travels. Brett and Santana both sat there playing with their food, every once in a while glancing at one another from across the table.

At one point Santana diverted her eyes from looking at Brett and made eye contact with her mother, who only smirked in return.

_Smug witch._

Santana was proud of herself that she had made it through dinner and dessert without incident. That was about to be tested.

"Santana, mija, why don't you show Brett down to the beach. I can't imagine Tennessee has many of those!" Maribel said with an amused twinkle in her eye. The woman knew exactly what she was doing.

_She just had to open her big mouth. _Santana said as she forced down the urge to tell her mother where she could shove the beach.

"Oh, no, that's fine Mrs. Lopez-" Brett started, clearly not wanting to be a bother.

Santana cut him off, "Sure. No Problem. Come on Brett." Santana said with a forced smile.

_Two can play this game. Mami wants to see me break. Fat fucking chance. Santana Lopez will not loose. _

Santana walked towards the gate that led to the stairs down the beach with Brett following behind her. She's pretty sure she could hear her parents giggling, obviously about her discomfort, but she refused to turn around and give them the satisfaction.

Santana took of her heels when they reached the sand and Brett quickly followed, rolling up the bottom of his pants as well.

"Uhm, yeah, so this is our beach." Santana said, not really knowing what to say.

"Cool." Brett said back.

Awkward.

Both stood there for a good five minutes just staring out at the ocean. The sun was setting, and even Santana had to admit it was really beautiful.

She was broken out of her gaze when she heard Brett speak.

"Please don't tell." Brett said.

Santana was confused for a moment until she looked at his face. Guilt written all over it.

Santana giggled, actually fucking giggled at him.

"I won't… If you tell me how you and my grandmother came to be partners in crime." Santana said with a small smile.

Brett immediately perked up and smiled back at her chuckling a bit.

Santana wasn't ready for the warmth that suddenly rushed through her. He had such an amazing smile and his laugh made her smile grow wider. It really was a great laugh.

"Well, I meet Abuela in New York a few months ago.."

"Wait, hold up! I don't even remember her going to New York." Santana said puzzled. Trying extremely hard to recall if her grandmother had mentioned leaving the state.

"Yeah. She came into the city with your dad for a weekend. I was visiting my dad at the time. We had lunch one afternoon. She mentioned your parents wouldn't let her smoke cigars anymore. I hope you're not mad. I just couldn't resist, she's such a sweet old lady." Brett said.

_They've been scheming for months now. Abuela, that traitor!_

"I'm not mad. She's a grown woman, she wants a cigar, who am I to tell her she can't have one… yeah, I know. It is hard to resist her." Santana smiled fondly. She was supposed to be upset with the old woman for butting into her life, but it's hard to be mad with the cute old Hispanic woman.

Santana started walking down the beach, and when she noticed Brett wasn't following her she rolled her eyes and motioned with her hand for him to catch p with her.

What she didn't know was four sets of eyes were watching the scene unfold from their seats at the table.

Maribel smiled warmly at her husband while Alma clinked her wine glass with Jim's.

"Well, children, I think this just might work out!" Alma said happily as she watched her only granddaughter walking on the beach with a handsome gentleman at sunset.

Back down on the beach Santana and Brett were walking side by side in silence. It wasn't an awkward silence however. It was comfortable. And Santana's big mouth had to ruin it.

"Why are you doing this?" Santana asked with her head focused on the beach in front of her.

Brett turned to admire her profile as he spoke, "Because a beautiful woman asked me to walk on the beach with her. Can't say no to that."

Swoon.

Santana turned to smirk at him, but she could only muster a bashful smile as she noticed he didn't look smug. He answered the question in all honesty.

"I mean, why do you want to marry me?" Santana asked stopping and sitting down in the sand.

_This dress needs to be dry cleaned anyways._

Brett didn't follow her this time. He just looked out at the ocean with his eyebrows knitted together. Santana watched as his face suddenly looked relieved, as if he had found the answer to her question.

"Pride." Brett said as he finally looked down at her, and then looked back to the waves. "If I married you it would make my dad proud. He's done so much for me, and I want to make him proud. I'm not the smartest guy, and I think that is hard for my dad to accept. He loves me, but I can tell that he would rather me be a publisher like himself rather than a trainer. He wanted me to go to Columbia like he did, but I couldn't get in, even with him being alumni. I couldn't get into any Ivy League. I only got into Vanderbilt because they were trying to fill their last wrestling scholarship. It made my dad proud. When I graduated, it made my dad proud. It feels good having people be proud of you, you know?" Brett said, looking down at Santana once more.

She didn't know what to say, so she just nodded her head.

"I want him to be proud. But it's just not about him you know." Santana didn't know, but she nodded anyways.

"I want to be proud as well." Santana was staring up into those gorgeous baby blues as he spoke with the most honesty she had ever heard out of anyone.

"I would be proud to be married to you."

Santana wanted to scoff at that, but instead she said "You don't even know me." ,In a quiet voice.

"I know enough. I know you love your family dearly, or else you wouldn't even be talking to me right now. And I know you want to be proud of yourself. That's really all I need to know." Brett said as he finally sat down next to her.

Santana didn't know what to say. She literally had no words.

Here she was sitting on the beach at sunset with a man she had just met today, and this man had all the confidence in the world about her, confidence that she didn't even hold for herself.

"I think I could make you proud of me, too. I want to make something of myself, something that you would be proud of. I don't plan on stretching and icing people my whole life." Brett said with a sad look on his face.

Santana frowned as she looked at him.

_No, don't be sad! Say something, Santana!_

"You shouldn't be ashamed of what you do, if you love what you do?" Santana said, hoping to comfort him a little.

"I don't love it. I mean it's a job, and I'm good at it. But its not something I want to be doing the rest of my life." Brett said.

"What do you love, Brett?" Santana asked hesitantly. She was starting to like this guy, and prayed he wasn't a huge weirdo.

"I love entertaining people. When I was a kid I loved to dance, still do. That's actually how I got started in wrestling. Kids would pick on me and I refused to fight back. So my dad got me into wrestling. He said because it was an organized sport that it wouldn't be violent…" Brett laughed at himself. "At the time I went along with it, but a choke hold is a choke hold in any environment. But I was good at it. Then when I got into high school I got bigger than the bully's. Being six foot one varsity wrestler as a freshman scares people I guess. People didn't bully me anymore. So that was a plus. I could dance and not get beat up for it. But wrestling took up a lot of my time. But yeah, I love to make people feel something when they watch me."

If any other man would have told Santana that she would've called them gay and given them Lady Hummel's number, but with Brett it only made him more appealing.

"That's really great. I have no clue what I want, or what I can even do. I mean, I've excelled at being an heiress for a while now." Santana said with sarcasm.

"Well, lucky for you, you're young. You have time to figure it out. You'll be proud of yourself, whatever you choose to do, Santana." Santana absolutely believed him. She had actually never believed anything more.

After a few moments Brett stood up and held his hand out for Santana to take. There that warmth was again, as her palm met his.

"Thanks." Santana said with a small smile.

"It's getting dark, and I've heard stories of Poseidon so we should probably head back." Brett said looking around him at the quickly darkening scenery.

_What?_

"Uh, like the Greek god Poseidon?" Santana asked quizzically.

"Yeah." Brett said as he wiped sand off of his pants.

"Oh, okay." Santana responded. Not really sure what to say back to that.

As the two made their way back into the house they were greeted with the site of Jim, Antonio and Alma mid tequila shot.

Brett and Santana looked at each other and started laughing. This caught the attention of the 'adults' in the room.

"Your father broke out the good stuff." Maribel said from her spot on the couch. Maribel hasn't touched tequila since that time a few years back when she vomited down the front of Julia Roberts. It took Antonio months worth of begging to get her to not switch agencies after that fiasco.

"Care for a shot?" Jim asked his son, more like lightly slurred.

"Uh, no thanks dad. I actually think we should be heading back to the hotel. It's getting late." Brett said to his father.

"I guess you're right." Jim said with a pout. A grown man pouting. Santana snickered when she noticed a matching pout on Antonio's face. Talk about a budding bromance.

Thank yous and compliments were exchanged as the Lopez's said goodbye to the Pierces.

When it was Santana's turn to say goodbye to Brett it wasn't awkward at all.

Okay, maybe it was a little awkward because she could literally smell the smugness coming of her mother. She gave him a quick hug, and had to catch herself from almost whimpering aloud when they broke apart.

"See you around, Santana." Brett said with a smile as he walked through the front door.

She didn't say anything back, just smiled at him as she closed the door. She stood there for a second before her mothers obnoxious laugh broke her out of her daze.

"I'm going to my room, mother." Santana said pointedly at Maribel.

Santana went up stairs and went through her nightly routine. Removing makeup, showering, blow drying her hair, etc.

As she was going to turn her desk light off she noticed the rose Brett had given her. She smiled to herself as she grabbed it and placed it in a tall crystal cup on her bedside table.

She stood in front of it for a long time.

Santana didn't know how long she had been standing there for, but suddenly she felt the urge to go find her grandmother.

She went downstairs and checked all the rooms on the bottom floor of the massive house. She couldn't find Alma anywhere so she made her way up to the top level of the house where her grandmother's bedroom was. Knocking, and not receiving an answer on Alma's bedroom door she quickly entered and closed the door behind her.

Alma wasn't in the room or en suite bathroom, but she noticed the curtains swaying in the breeze.

_Bingo!_

Santana made her way towards the balcony, and smelt her grandmother before she saw her.

Santana walked out on the balcony casually and had to garner up every ounce of self-control to not laugh at her grandmother.

There Alma was in her bathrobe, smoking a Cuban cigar. The look on her face was priceless. She had been caught, no doubt about it.

"Uh, hola Santana.." Alma said lowering the cigar to the ash tray.

"Abuela, I want you to give me Brett phone number." Santana said firmly.

Alma cocked an eyebrow up at that. "Oh, and what makes you think I have his number?"

Santana was in a poison of power in this scenerio, and didn't want to waste it. Crossing her arms and cocking a hip out, in a very Santana-like manner, she said "Cut the crap. I know you two are buddies. Just give me his number, por favor."

Alma was a bit taken aback, but realized she had no play. "Si, it is true. Let me get my pocket book." Alma said dejectedly.

Alma wondered into her room and found Brett's number and as she walked back out Santana was standing smoking her cigar. HER CIGAR!

"Here, you thief, now leave me in peace." Alma said making a show of taking the cigar out of Santana's mouth.

Santana took the post-it from Alma's hand and walked past her towards the door, but not before stopping and turning to face Alma once more.

"Oh, and Abuela, don't tell my mother you gave me this." Santana said.

"Oh and why not?" Alma asked back with a smirk.

"Because if you do, I'll rat you and your stogie stash out." Santana said as turned once more to leave the room.

She knew her secret would be safe as she heard Alma dejectedly say, "these are Cubans. Cubanos..".

Santana grabbed her phone from her desk and got into bed.

She laid staring at the text she had written for what seemed like forever before finally pushing the send button.

**L.A. has the best dance scene-**_**Santana**_

**Hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think! I don't have an outline for my stories, because I never end up following them, so if you guys want to see a prompt/ship or something seriously, let me know! Your wish is my command! Feeling really good about this story, and you're guys continued support keeps me going! You guys really are the bees knees(Yeah, I said it!)**


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